(no subject)

[the_death_card]

Who: Dylan and Jack
What: Dylan finds out about Miranda's visit and reacts accordingly. Other conversation follows.


onebehind: *this is him, sitting at the kitchen table, a folder of official FBI paperwork in front of him, unopened, untouched. he's still in his FBI suit, though he's taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, and he's currently in the process of loosening his tie. he still obviously has work brains on, if his posture is any indication, but ... he did just get home and he's working on that*

the_death_card: *and this is him wandering into the kitchen with an empty cup, either to get a refill or leave it in the sink, he hasn't decided yet. stops for a moment when he sees Dylan - and then moves over to the sink, to fill his glass* Hey.

onebehind: *ducks out from under his tie, and glances at him briefly as he turns to drape it over the back of the chair, too. when he turns back, he smiles warmly, tiredly, all at once himself* Hey.

the_death_card: *turns around to lean against the counter with his water* When did you get back? *was upstairs reading that turned into napping and didn't hear him come in*

onebehind: *glances at the clock and makes a little face as he tries to make a guess at what time he actually got back* Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago?

the_death_card: *nods around a drink - is still kind of sleepy and mellow, even if it's also obvious he's glad Dylan's there*

onebehind: *he gets that. though ... * I didn't wake you up, did I? *he gets the impression that he didn't, since Jack had to ask when he got back, but ... he's going to feel like an ass it he did*

the_death_card: Nah. I didn't mean to fall asleep in the first place, anyway. *so even if he had, it wouldn't matter* I'll probably be sorry I did, later.

onebehind: *he breathes out a little sigh of a laugh* I'd argue, but ... *yeah, he's probably going to be staring at the ceiling all night*

the_death_card: Yeahh. *makes a face*

onebehind: *offers him a little, sympathetic look and a moment of silence for his impending lack of sleep. when that moment passes, he wets his lips with his tongue, and then* You know, you could always try going back to bed now, before you wake up too much. *he'd actually like to spend time with Jack, but well, he wouldn't really fault him if he wanted to go back to bed and avoid the misery of not being able to sleep later*

the_death_card: Nah. Who needs a normal sleep schedule, anyway? *grins. it's not like any of them will have one once the shows start up again - and yeah, no, he's not wandering off again without talking to Dylan some, first, since he's here*

onebehind: *snorts* Apparently not you. *a beat and he nudges the chair opposite him out from under the table a little bit with his foot* Sit down, at least.

the_death_card: *takes the offered chair, setting his water down and then crossing his arms, leaning forward with his elbows on the table* So how was the office?

onebehind: *immediately, he grimaces* Same shit, different day. *a beat* You guys are in the clear, though. *just as he planned*

the_death_card: *nods - not that he was worried about it, considering Dylan had planned for it, but good to know, anyway. and then pauses a beat of his own, smirking a little* Until your guys find out we can raise the dead, anyway.

onebehind: *he grins* Nah. Like Daniel said -- *which it occurs to him belatedly that Jack missed, since they were all in seperate rooms when they interrogated them. eh, whatever* -- that'd require the FBI to actually acknowledge that magic was a real thing.

the_death_card: Which is just nonsense, of course. *and manages to keep the straight face for all of three seconds before the grin returns*

onebehind: Complete bullshit. *he does the same. God. did he mention he missed this? him? them? all of it*

the_death_card: *they missed him, too. seriously* Oh, speaking of. *magic or him not being dead or, more likely, some combination thereof* A friend of yours kinda knows I'm not dead, too.

onebehind: *he tilts his head, the smile falling away* Yeah? *he can think of small handful of people who might have dropped in, but ... *

the_death_card: Yeah, uh... *and yes, he's definitely being purposefully difficult with this description* Tall-ish, but compared to me, that's kind of everyone. Blonde-ish. Hot-ish, if you're into older women. *a beat* Or Merritt.

onebehind: *he blinks at Jack and -- * -- shit. *glances around him to where he left his sketchbook and when he doesn't see it there, he stands up and goes to look for it, hurriedly. obviously, her drawing dicks in his sketchbook is nothing new*

the_death_card: *immediately cracks up*

onebehind: *grabs the book and starts thumbing through it, looking for whatever page she drew on. and when Jack laughs, he turns on him, looking somewhere between genuinely a little annoyed and amused in an exasperated sort of way, though neither are entirely directed at him* You let her get at my sketchbook, didn't you?

the_death_card: *still amused, though a little apologetically, too* I'm not sure stopping her was actually something I could have managed.

onebehind: Probably not. She's kind of ... determined. *that's putting it mildly. anyway, he finds the page, looks it over for a minute, and then huffs out a sigh of a laugh before tearing it out* Goddamn it, Mira. *balls up the page and tosses it at Jack's head. he's not mad at you, dude*

onebehind: * ... and ohay, look. a business card fell out of the book when he found the right page. bends to pick it up* She used to do this shit to me all the time.

the_death_card: *makes a cursory effort to duck the paper* I kinda got that impression.

onebehind: *the longer he thinks about it, the more amused he seems to get -- to the point where he's grinning a little when he comes back to the table. oh, he's still going to call and yell at her when he gets the chance, but that'll be more ... obligatory than him actually being mad* She tell you who she was?

the_death_card: *nods, grinning crookedly* After she scared the crap out of me.

onebehind: Lemme guess ... she just let herself in.

the_death_card: Yep. When the rest of them *with a nod toward the stairs* had wandered off.

onebehind: *just shakes his head, though he still looks amused* I'm sorry for her.

the_death_card: Nah, it's okay. She's kinda awesome. *a beat, and more thoughtfully...* Also kinda scary, but...

onebehind: *laughs. and then fondly* I would have gone with kinda nuts, but yeah, same difference, I guess.

onebehind: *a pause and then more seriously* She's -- your secret's safe with her, though.

the_death_card: *laughs a little, again, and then, more seriously, too* Yeah, I got that.

onebehind: *he nods* Just in case you were worried and she didn't say it.

the_death_card: She did. She also said she was trying to catch you before you had to go back to work.

onebehind: *that gets another nod* We ... kinda haven't talked in awhile.

the_death_card: She also said that. She said... kind of a lot of things, actually... *worried, yet, Dylan?*

onebehind: * ... he's getting there* Anything you wanna share, specifically?

the_death_card: I was supposed to set up a camera for when I told you she'd been here. *nods to the sketchbook*

onebehind: And that's it? *he's trying very hard not to look amused, because that might distract Jack -- or himself, for that matter, and he's watching Jack very closely, trying to figure out if Miranda told him his name or not. he's ... not sure how he'll feel, if she did. on one hand, Goddamn it, Mira, he had a game set up. on the other, though, it might be kind of a relief*

the_death_card: *sadly, no. and he'd probably have said something by now if she had. or Dylan would've heard about it from one of the others considering he'd've rubbed it in their faces that he'd gotten it first considering he's not putting in nearly the effort Merritt and Henley have been* Uh... That you'd probably be a bitch about having to go back to work?

onebehind: *looks a touch disappointed, if only for an instant, and then snorts* You got your phone on you? *or somewhere close or whatever*

the_death_card: *sits back to reach into his hoodie pocket to grab it and toss it to him*

onebehind: *catches it and takes a moment to take a selfie of him flipping off the camera before texting it to the number on the business card. knowing Miranda, it's a cell phone -- her personal one -- and while it's probably a bad idea to put her number in Jack's phone, if only to send that text, as well as it sounds like they got along, he figures at least one of them should have her number, just in case something comes up and he's not around to deal with it*

onebehind: *passes the phone back to him when he's finished*

onebehind: *and that, ladies and gentlemen, is his response to being called a bitch by his sister type thing*

the_death_card: *cracks up again at the picture. he takes the phone back, and something about his smile shifts as he looks at it - as he uses it for a reason to not look at Dylan, for a moment* I got the shovel speech, too. Or, well, I think she meant it collectively, but...

onebehind: *his own smile falters a little bit. oh, Mira* ... did I mention I'm sorry for her?

the_death_card: *looks up again, finally* Yeah, but... She's your friend. She worries about you. *shrugs. he doesn't really need to apologize for her, even if he already did. Jack gets why she felt the need to say it, anyway, even if she said she was kidding*

onebehind: Yeah. She -- she's two years younger than me and she still feels the need to pull that ... over-protective, older sister crap. *he pauses, wetting his lips with his tongue and looks vaguely torn for a moment before breathing out a sigh. just say it, Dylan* She's seen a lot of me, bad and good. She was there when my father ... *yeah*

onebehind: *and he means physically there when they got the news. he stopped seeing her for awhile after that*

the_death_card: I'm glad she was. *that he did have someone there*

onebehind: Yeah. *he takes a couple of slow, deep breaths and then abruptly, his expression closes off. forty-six years since his world came crashing down, thirty years of planning revenge, two weeks of having it, of having that satisfaction, and it all still stings as if it just happened yesterday, and he can't deal with that right now. or let Jack see too much of it*

the_death_card: *frowns, his own expression closing off a little as he puts his phone back in his pocket* Sorry. *even if he figures Dylan's not mad at him, he still lead this around to that coming up*

onebehind: *immediately and a little sharply* No. *a beat and then less harshly* It's not your fault. It's just ... *another pause and then wryly* Sorry for me, too, I guess.

the_death_card: *lets out a humorless breath of a laugh, at that, reaching up to run a hand over his hair as he ducks his head a little, trying to avoid looking at Dylan again for a moment while he gets himself back together. he can't quite help but keep thinking about what she said, about him sounding like Dylan, and the "great minds" comment, and Dylan himself saying the same thing, and so on. he's still not sure what to do with it, mind, but it's still been chasing itself around his head*

onebehind: *doesn't say anything either, just frowns at him, studying him. he feels like he fucked up, somehow. he feels like he should probably try opening up to Jack, even if it hurts, even if it's hard, since well, this is him, and not many people get to see that, and he wants them to get to know him, just as he's wanted them to since he revealed himself. he feels like he should ask Jack what happened, what she said, what he's missing because there's obviously something, even if he's too closed off and intentionally not looking at him for him to find it. in the end, though, he says nothing. he just huffs out a sigh and reaches up to rub at his eyes. God, he needs a drink*

the_death_card: *hooray for the whole family being fucked up. looks up again, finally, once he has managed to get a handle on all that* Seriously, though? I'm glad I met her. *if just because she's an important part of his life, even considering the annoying little sister thing*

onebehind: *he hesitates for a moment and then* I was, too, until about a minute ago. *a beat and then by way of explanation and a touch angrily, though guardedly so* I ... don't know what she said to you, but I know whatever it is, between that and me being a tight-lipped dick ... *another pause* And before you start, I'm not blaming you for whatever. I'm blaming her. *and if she said something to hurt him, to quote Moriarty, he will burn the heart right out of her, "family ties" or not. he loves Miranda, but he's realizing pretty quickly he loves his Horsemen more already* Me. Pick one.

the_death_card: *blinks at him, and then, quickly...* No, no, no. She didn't... *way to give him the completely wrong idea, Wilder, and he reaches up to run a hand over his hair, more roughly, this time, before he drops his hand back to the table, looking at Dylan* She said a couple times I sounded like you. And you said the other night, about it being like fighting a mirror, and.... *stops, abruptly, blinking a few times, quickly* You know I've never had a family. Or... not before you guys. And I don't... *huffs out a sigh, looking away for a moment before he forces himself to look back up, to force himself to say it* I start thinking about it too much, and it starts scaring the shit out of me.

onebehind: *and that seems to derail him, seems to diffuse his anger, quiet and cold as it was. he stares at Jack for a moment and the best he can manage when that moment passes is ... * Oh. *he hesitates* You don't ... *want to be him, really. he knows he has a great number of strengths, but he has a great many faults also, and he recognizes that, too. he holds grudges for lifetimes. he's probably as close to MPD as you can get without actually being insane -- and he's wondered a few times over the years if he's not. he drinks too much. and so on and so forth. he can't quite make himself put that out there, though, for a number of reasons even he couldn't name in entirety, though, and so he just shakes his head a little, takes a deep breath and then forces himself to start again, gently, seriously* We're not going anywhere, Jack. *a beat* And yeah, I get that might be what makes this -- *he gestures to the suite* -- so Goddamn scary, but ... trust us. Trust me to make it worth it.

the_death_card: *that's beside the point, really - Jack doesn't want to be Dylan, not really, because Jack's actually pretty happy with who he is, aside from knowing he's still got some growing up to do and his own issues to deal with. but at the same time, being told they have things in common really isn't the worst thing he's ever had someone say about him, because he does respect the hell out of Dylan, because he already considers him part of their family, here. -- it takes some doing, but he forces himself to keep looking at Dylan* It's already been worth it. And I do trust you guys. *the Horsemen had to trust each other, considering how quickly things might have fallen apart if they didn't, and again with Jack already considering Dylan part of them* It's just... *finally looks away, taking a breath to reorder his thoughts before he looks up again* I didn't know, before, what would happen when it was all over. If we'd all split up or what, but I was kinda ready for that. I'm used to that.

onebehind: Yeah, I get that. *and not just because he and Jack have had similar conversations before. more because he's expecting them to eventually outgrow him, to ask him to leave in the end because they don't need him and his shit anymore, like ... like Miranda did, more or less, once upon a time. and yeah, she came back, but ... but this is definitely more empathy than sympathy. and him desperately hoping it doesn't come to that*

the_death_card: *he's not Merritt, so he's not actually getting any of that, but the same could happen with any of them. they've all got issues. Jack, at least, isn't going anywhere, though. but he's figuring Dylan means he knows about Jack's issues, since yeah, they have had other conversations about this* Yeah, I know. I'm just still working on what to do with all this besides being scared of it.

onebehind: You'll figure it it. *a beat* Hopefully we all will. *because yeah, they do all have issues. including him*

the_death_card: *smiles, wryly* Eventually.

onebehind: Eventually. *a beat* And together. *makes another vague gesture to the suite*

the_death_card: *and his smile goes a little more real as he nods* Yeah.

onebehind: *smiles back for a moment, then breathes out a sigh, rocking back in his chair. a long pause follows, before* ... and I am sorry for being kind of ... *a tight-lipped dick, as he said before* ... it's kind of force of habit. It's been awhile since pretty much anyone got to see the real me.

onebehind: Sometimes I kinda forget how ... *to be himself. to let other people see him*

the_death_card: *looks amused for a moment, but only at the phrasing* It's okay. You kinda couldn't for thirty years. If we're allowed to have time to get over our issues, you definitely are.

onebehind: Yeah. *a beat* Just figured I'd make it clear I'm not getting off on making you guys jump through hoops or whatever.

the_death_card: Watching Merritt and Henley beat their heads against the wall is pretty entertaining, though. *just sayin'*

onebehind: *he tips his head to one side, then the other, and trying very hard to fight a smile* Can't really argue that.

the_death_card: *smiles, anyway, though it fades again quickly* Like you said, none of us are going anywhere. You've got time.

onebehind: *and the urge to smile fades for him* Yeah.

onebehind: *a long pause follows and then* ... so, I miss anything else while I was off playing Agent Asshole?

the_death_card: *he gets there's a lot of irony in him saying that when he's having issues of his own settling in, but he does know, intellectually, that it's true. the trick's obviously going to be any of them actually getting it through their heads. lets out a breath of a laugh, at that* Not much, really. The others have been doing some more stuff on the business side since we're actually off the hook and everything now, but. *he's been here*

onebehind: You find what I left for you? *the drawing he did at their Last Supper and the concept art for their cards, he means, but he's also sort of subtly fishing to see if anyone's found the Bible yet. he doubts it -- he figures Jack would have asked him if it belonged to him, when the rest of them realized it wasn't any of theirs -- but he likes to know how things are progressing when he plans them*

the_death_card: The drawings? *grins* Yeah. They're awesome. *he thought Dylan was up to something during the party, but hell if he could have told him what, at the time*

onebehind: *he grins* I had Merritt keep you guys off me.

the_death_card: I noticed. *a beat* Sort of. *but still with the grin*

onebehind: *he shrugs a little* I think you're the only one who did. *besides, you know, Merritt, but he doesn't count since he was in on it*

the_death_card: Well, anyway, we need a frame for that. *and he kind of wants to do something with the art for his card, but he hasn't made up his mind as to what, yet*

onebehind: *snorts* What, now I gotta frame it, too? *he's kidding, obviously. he'll pick one up and bring it by next time he can*

the_death_card: *shrugs. knows he's kidding, but* It can wait until I can go get one. *or one of the others can, or whatever*

onebehind: *rolls his eyes* I'll bring one home next time I come.

the_death_card: *and can't help but grin, something soft to it considering the word in there*

onebehind: *he catches that and smiles back, soft and warm and not unlike the look he gave them all the night they sat down to dinner. the one only Merritt caught*

the_death_card: *returns it for a moment before he ducks his head a little bashfully, shaking his head lightly*

onebehind: *keeps his eyes on him for a long moment before finally looking away, too. and after a moment, he reaches up to rub at his eyes, not frustrated or upset or whatever, just ... tired*

the_death_card: Long day?

onebehind: Yeah. Most of it was filling out the reinstatement paperwork and then having a ton of shit in a five pound bag dropped in my lap. *he gestures to the folder still sitting in front of him. barring his "fuck up" with the Horsemen, his reputation as a decent agent is still relatively unvarnished since that whole thing was kind of a clusterfuck for everyone, so the second he got his badge back, his supervisor dropped a fairly honest clusterfuck in his lap, told him he was pulling the guy that was originally on it and to do something about it. and as much as he's come to actually learn to love his day job most of the time, he's pretty sure his response was something along the lines of "You've gotta be shitting me."* Add in the fact that my sleep schedule's still kinda screwed and ... *he shrugs*

onebehind: *also, the feels punch didn't magically make him any more awake, obviously. but that's not Jack's fault so he's not going to mention that*

the_death_card: *makes a face on his behalf* Lucky you. I'd ask if there was anything I could do to help, but *another face. he doubts it*

onebehind: *he snorts* Not unless you can slog through this shit and give me the Cliff Notes after you've made sense of it. *and while Jack misses a lot since he's obviously not Merritt, it's a little hard to miss the fact that his posture's slowly sliding back towards Agent Rhodes', even if he, himself, doesn't realize he's doing it. it's a product of talking about "work"*

the_death_card: Yeah, probably not if you're having problems straightening it out. *and yeah, he has noticed the shift*

onebehind: *he offers him a wry smile* I tried.

the_death_card: I'll get you a gold star, later.

onebehind: *he laughs, shakes his head and leans forward a little, his posture relaxing abruptly* Ass.

the_death_card: *seems to give that a moment of thought and then nods* Pretty much. *and the grin's back at full power*

onebehind: *he breathes out a sigh of a laugh* I'm not sure if I should be more worried that you had to think about that or that you agreed.

the_death_card: Well, I am officially a smart ass, considering we established it's in my file and everything.

onebehind: Right. *a beat, and still grinning* My mistake.

the_death_card: I told you, the whole... *gestures vaguely* advanced years thing. It'll get to your memory. *please don't hit him*

onebehind: *unclips his badge from his belt and pitches it at him. not hard, mind you, but he felt obligated to throw something and didn't feel like playing 52 pick up with the file on the table*

the_death_card: *catches it, looking at it for a moment before...* My uniform didn't come with one of these. *the one he stole in New Orleans, he means, and he grins at him again*

onebehind: *laughs again* Yeah, well, don't get any ideas. I'm gonna need that back before I leave for the night. *his smile fades more than a little at the end of that statement. he'd like to be able to stay the night, but ... until he figures out what to pull out of his bag of tricks, he should really sleep at Agent Rhodes' apartment*

the_death_card: *and his smile fades, too, though he keeps his attention on the badge, trying to cover* Don't think they'd appreciate you losing your badge after being back for three days?

onebehind: Yeah, no, probably not.

the_death_card: *and grins, again, though it's not as bright as it was, and slides the badge back across the table to him*

onebehind: *clips it back onto his belt and leans back in his chair again, at a loss for what to say now*

the_death_card: *is, too, unfortunately - or at least anything to lighten the mood back up*